


All I Want for Christmas

by PurpleFluffyCat



Series: Severus and Gilderoy [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 04:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19143340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFluffyCat/pseuds/PurpleFluffyCat
Summary: Severus invites Gilderoy to the Ministry Ball... a contractual outing, or something more? Gilderoy, now back on his feet and becoming confident, may have his head turned by other charming prospects. So where does that leave Severus?





	All I Want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyWitch/gifts).



> Written for MyWitch - as the third and final part of my 'Severus and Gilderoy' series. This story follows 'Fallen Angel' and 'An Earthly Glimpse'.

“Later on, we’re going out.” Severus said it just as he scooped his outdoor cloak from the peg, and headed along the broad hallway of Snape Mansion for the front door. The words were tightly balled, almost as if their owner had needed to force them between his lips, or they would not have been voiced at all.   
  
Gilderoy was standing just a few strides away, but Severus did not turn to meet his questioning expression. Instead he frowned at the floor, making a mess of buttoning his cloak as his fingers grasped each clasp too tightly. Finally, Severus yanked open the door and tossed over his shoulder, “Dress robes.” And then he was gone.  
  
In the hours that followed, Gilderoy roamed the vast house, and contemplated. Although he was by no means a prisoner at Snape Mansion, and – providing he was on hand for Snape’s carnal desires whenever needed – he could come and go as he pleased, he had never before been given specific instructions.  
  
His first thought was not a happy one: he was being dismissed. Ever since he had been, err,  _employed_  to live with Severus, the chance that Snape might tire of him and send him back to that Club on Knockturn Alley was a perfectly real one. After all, worried Gilderoy, it had been eighteen months, now – surely Severus was considering other tastes and pleasures.  
  
That thought gripped him, and made him sad, his insides turning to something like lead. He felt grief in a way that could not be explained solely by the loss of the luxurious lifestyle to which he had done everything to become accustomed; it went deeper even than his love of feather beds, delicious food and gorgeous clothes. Indeed, that sense of imagined loss, whatever it might be, distracted Gilderoy from the logic of the situation: hadn’t Severus said, ‘Dress Robes’? And surely Gilderoy wouldn’t need to get dressed up to be evicted?  
  
Taking a deep breath, Gilderoy reasoned that it was surely something else, then. A spying mission? A tax appointment? A job interview?  
  
Or… Gilderoy stopped dead in the parlour overlooking the garden. Was it an…  _invitation_?  
  


*****

Every elf in the Mansion was run ragged that day by Gilderoy’s requests and concerns. He tried on at least fifteen different outfits, and made numerous magical adjustments to each before deciding it wasn’t  _quite_  right. His hair was coiffed, powdered and lustred thrice over, and his fingernails were manicured like never before. He even practised his Most Charming Smile in the mirror for several minutes, from days of ‘Witch Weekly’ yore.  
  
In the end, Gilderoy opted for elaborately-skirted robes in emerald green damask, shot with silver. They were low-cut at the throat - showing a bit of chest - then fit his torso tightly before flaring out into yards of swirling fabric and embroidered silken cuffs. He hoped that Severus would appreciate the Slytherin green; it was very much chosen with him in mind, after all.  
  
Even more especially chosen for Severus, though, was what Gilderoy was wearing  _under_  his robes. He had combed through every combination for the most provocative ensemble. He was laced into the tightest corset he could find, just grazing his tender nipples from below. Indeed, Gilderoy had not remembered that particular garment being  _quite_  so tight the last time he had worn it; his waist was perhaps thicker now, after grazing on all the pre-Christmas treats scattered around the Mansion, and the bones dug into his tender flesh. It gave his body almost a set of voluptuous curves, and his breathing came in heady gasps against the tight lacing, only adding to his anticipation of the evening ahead.  
  
Beneath, he was barely encased in a silver leather pouch and thong, with suspenders joined to outrageous fishnet stockings in green and black. Gilderoy was getting hot and bothered even  _thinking_  about what might happen when they got back home, and he had to will himself into composure just to be ready at the appointed time.

*****

  
Gilderoy sashayed down the main staircase, using every trick and strut he had learned from the greasy old Club. He held Severus’ gaze as he did so, prize harlot and wealthy patron writ large.  
  
Oddly though, the imperious, filthy Snape of before was nowhere to be seen. Severus shuffled his feet a little and looked down, shifting his curtain of hair to hide what might just have been a blush creeping into his cheek.  
  
When Gilderoy reached his side, Severus put a hand on his shoulder. It was almost shy. “Right then. We’re going to apparate.”  
  
A gut-wrenching moment later, they were standing at the main doors of the Ministry of Magic. The stone stairs to the grand doors were crimson-carpeted, and above, a sign spelled ‘CHRISTMAS BALL’ in live fairies.  
  
“We’re… going in there?” asked Gilderoy, daftly.  
  
Severus did not dignify that with an answer, and instead led them both inside.  
  
Even in his authoring days, Gilderoy could not think he had attended a party so lavish. Just in the hallway, there were overflowing saucers of the finest elf-made wines, delectable canapes, and decorations so fine they were surely spun from pure silver and gold.  
  
However, just as they were about to enter the main ballroom, Severus was accosted by a large, stern figure. It was the Minister for Magic.  
  
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” said Kingsley, in a voice that brooked absolutely no argument. “I need to speak to you, Severus. I need your input on a sensitive matter.”  
  
Severus rolled his eyes, but did not argue.  
  
“Thank you,” said Kingsley, acknowledging the acquiescence. Then he turned to Gilderoy. “Please do go in and enjoy the ball while I borrow Severus, won’t you? Hopefully, our business will not take all night.”  
  
And with that, Severus disappeared up a dark staircase, and Gilderoy glid from social obscurity into the most dazzling environment in the Wizarding world. Some treacherous whisper in the back of his mind said,  _it’s like coming home._  
  


*****

Gilderoy's head was turned by every manner of indulgence he could imagine. The food was imported and conjured from every corner of the Wizarding world; the cocktails were made from dreams and rainbows, and the music licked and tickled his every sense. Most of all, though, Gilderoy was struck by the  _people_. In clubbable clusters stood every Witch and Wizard of note in Wizarding Britain - the film stars; the ministers; the poets; the heroes.  
  
He exchanged pleasantries with several stars he had only seen in  _The Prophet_. They were beautiful - and nice enough, in a non-committal sort of way. There was only one thing missing, though: that flash of recognition when they saw him. Didn't anyone know who he was, any more?  _Gilderoy Lockhart, travel author extraordinaire, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's 'Most Charming Smile'' award?_.  
  
It was just when Gilderoy was musing thus - together with, and yet alone amid the glittering throng, and some way through his fourth cocktail - that he heard the call of a rather wonderful sound: his own name.  
  
"Gilderoy! Gilderoy, m'boy. How marvellous to see you!" He turned, and saw the jolly figure of Horace Slughorn bowling toward him.   
  
Horace was clearly rather drunk, and all the happier for it. The glass of elf-made wine he was holding swirled and sploshed liberally as he pattered forward, extending a chubby hand and a bonhomous smile in Gilderoy's direction. "What a delightful surprise, m'boy! You've been out of the loop rather, haven't you! Well, no matter. Can't keep an old member of the Slug Club down, eh? I say, it's jolly spiffing to see you!"  
  
Gilderoy beamed and preened. He had always got on very well with Professor Slughorn. His mind wandered to those heady school days where assignment marks were flexible, and professors knew which side their boys were buttered. Ah yes, they had gotten on very,  _very_  well...  
  
“What a pleasure!" continued Horace, Summoning a bottle. "Would you like some? It really is very good." Gilderoy thanked him, and the garnet-rich wine flowed into his glass and his brain. "I daresay I haven’t seen you for far, far, far too long! What have you been up to, eh?”  
  
Gilderoy drew a breath, wondering how to respond.  
  
“Heigh-ho; no matter!” said Horace, filling the gap as port would fill a decanter. “You’re here now, and I’d like  _dearly_  to catch up with my favourite own blond-haired boy. Do come this way…”  
  
They settled into a quieter corner of the ballroom, and conversation about everything and nothing flowed with ease. Gilderoy remarked on the music, and Horace proudly told him that the quartet were personal protégés of his, from the conservatoire. They discussed the theatre, Horace's extravagant summer holidays, and Wizarding fashions and foibles.  
  
The light was low, he was dressed to the nines and fine wine was flowing in his veins. It was almost, thought Gilderoy, as if he were back to his old self: popular, privileged, the toast of society… and with the lustre in his hair and the finest robes that Galleons can buy, he also felt so very,  _very_  pretty.  
  
Horace was getting closer and closer, his beady eyes roving all across Gilderoy’s figure in those extravagant robes. Gilderoy preened.  
  
“Such fine fabric,” Horace opined. “Do you mind if I…?” He held out a theatrical hand, indicating he’d like to take in the cloth.  
  
Gilderoy tipped his head and smiled in agreement, enjoying the attention.  
  
Deliberate, plump fingers smoothed their way down from Gilderoy’s collarbone. “Mmmm… and in my House colours, too…” Horace stroked across Gilderoy’s chest, setting off inadvertent fireworks when he grazed across Gilderoy’s nipple. His hand then reached the top of the corset, and his eyes widened. “Oho! What have we here?” A wide smile bloomed, as Horace found the unmistakable outline of boning under his thumb. “Oh, my  _boy_. What a Darling. What a treasure. What a fine little morsel you are…”

The flattery gave Gilderoy a rush of excitement. Coquettishly, he fluttered and tossed his hair... but somewhere in his mind also came an unaccustomed pricking, as he remembered for whom he had dressed up in the first place; for whom he had donned those green and silver House colours. And then, musing for a moment on it, came a feeling of...   
  
Now what exactly  _was_  that feeling?  
  
Horace was quite unaware of any distracted thoughts Gilderoy may or may not have been having, though; he was quite rapt by the sight before him. “I bet you look simply  _gorgeous_  under those robes, don’t you? I see you’ve plumped up rather, and all the better for it! I do like something to hold on to, in my boys…" He lowered his voice. “I tell you what, m'boy: whatever arrangement you have with our  _friend_ , I’ll double it. Yes?"   
  
A beat, as that acknowledgement of the truth passed between them. Gilderoy's eyes widened, and Horace rushed to smooth it over. "Yes, of course I know all about it, dear boy - and I don't mind in the least.   
  
"You know me, I’m a sporting chap – I’m happy to  _share_. And I vow I’ll make it worth your while. You think you've seen luxury? I promise the treatment you've had so far will look like gruel and a woolsack when I've finished lavishing my attentions on you, oh yes..."  
  
Gilderoy basked in the soft words and those magnetic promises. Emboldened, Horace raised both hands to Gilderoy’s waist, and caressed his form, as if they were about to dance slowly together.  
  
Horace leaned forward and brushed Gilderoy's ear with hot breath. “What else is down there, eh?” he whispered, full of mischief. “You know I’d  _love_  to find out."  
  
Gilderoy did not have a chance to decide how to respond, though - because at that moment, the music came to a startling halt as wand sparks blazed across the ballroom, and panicked witches and wizards scattered in all directions. At the heart of it all was Severus striding toward them, incandescent with rage.  
  
His eyes locked on Horace with something like an Unforgivable in their gaze. “Take. Your. Hands.  _Off._  My boyfriend.” The words were wound as tightly as a cobra about to attack.  
  
Horace stumbled backward as if he had been burned. Then, without another second's pause, Severus seized Gilderoy around the waist, and apparated them both home.

*****

Gilderoy stood blinking in the middle of the main parlour of Snape Mansion. Severus had already dropped his grip and retreated to the far side of the room, facing away. A rigid silence stretched on and on, between them. After the throng of the party, the house seemed poundingly quiet.  
  
"That... was..." Gilderoy started to speak, but the words petered out.  
  
Severus turned in a flash. His face was tense and drawn, like an injured animal. "Stupid. Ridiculous. Yes, I know! Let's all laugh at idiot Snape! Spinners End boy making a scene in polite society. He might be a Ministry hero, but he'll never know how to behave. Who'd want that?"  
  
"I..." started Gilderoy.  
  
"Oh, for fuck's sake. It's obvious, isn't it. I've been such a fool. I mean, he’s  _nicer_  than me, and more fun, and richer even - and who  _wouldn't_  want to go with an upgrade. Makes perfect sense, so why don't you just-"  
  
"-Severus, I-"  
  
“-It's not as if you  _have_  to be here with me, now is it? Look at you. You’re back on your feet, back in society; you could go wherever you want, with whomever you want. Bloody hell, Gilderoy; you’re fucking gorgeous. What the hell are you doing here with-”  
  
“-B...boyfriend?” Gilderoy was still blinking, though whether it was from the unexpected apparation or the words, he couldn’t quite tell. “You said I was…”  
  
“-Well, that’s just me being a prize dunderhead, isn’t it?" Severus turned away again, the self-loathing was written in every line of his body.   
  
A lump was building in Gilderoy's throat that now had nothing to do with the champagne or the apparating. Another long silence stretched between them, as Gilderoy didn't dare to speak or move.  
  
Finally, very quietly, Severus spoke again. "You're free to go. With enough Galleons to buy a house and live well." It was the flayed tone of a man who had lost everything in the world. "You'll never have to go back to that  _place._ " He paused again, and seemed as if he wished for the Mansion to swallow him up. "I should have said this months ago, but... I didn't want to lose you."  
  
"Oh, Severus." Gilderoy rushed forward. "Really? I mean... you want me to... go.... Or  _not_  go, that is, but to..."  
  
Severus met his eyes, now looking completely naked. Gilderoy was struck by how very young he seemed - a strange innocence that was usually hidden under layers and layers of hardened hurt and grim pain. "...Yes?" he dared, wincing at the sound of his own voice, as if he was already beating himself for that feeble sound of hope.  
  
Not trusting words any more, Gilderoy drew Severus into his arms. "I want to be your... boyfriend."  
  
Severus gasped, and clutched him back.

*****

When they made their way upstairs that night, Severus took Gilderoy by the hand, and led him to the main bedroom - but instead of grabbing him and taking him roughly from behind, Severus undressed Gilderoy button by button, buckle by buckle, lacing by lacing - slowly and gently, unwrapping him like a jewel.  
  
When Gilderoy was fully naked, the prize robes and naughty underthings cast aside with little note, Severus laid him down gently on the soft eiderdown.  
  
"You looked so beautiful, tonight," Severus breathed. "May I...?"  
  
It struck Gilderoy as a little odd that Severus was asking permission for something they had done hundreds of times before, but it  _did_  feel somehow different, tonight. He nodded, with a kind smile - which seemed to encourage Severus to take off his own robes, quickly and almost bashfully.  
  
Severus settled onto the bed, kneeling alongside Gilderoy's supine form. He traced his fingers along the angry red lines the corset bones had left on Gilderoy's soft tummy, and pressed a chaste kiss there. "You do this - for me?"  
  
"It doesn't really hurt," said Gilderoy, lying a bit.  
  
"You do look bloody fantastic dolled up like that, but..." Severus trailed off.  
  
"But, what?" asked Gilderoy, panicking a little.  
  
Severus looked at him seriously, the pause hovering between them. "No more pretences, tonight," he said, at last - and then did something he had never done before: he took Gilderoy in his mouth and sucked hard.  
  
Gilderoy's eyes rolled back in his sockets as a sound so shocked and wanton escaped his lips he couldn't quite believe that he had been the one to make it. His whole world collapsed into the molten sensation of Severus' tongue on his cock, hot lips sliding up and down the length until he felt ready to explode. They continued like that for some minutes, Gilderoy beside himself in bliss, and Severus exploring his planes and curves with careful caresses, his clever hands roaming sightlessly across Gilderoy's form.  
  
At last, Severus whispered a spell, and then Gilderoy felt a gentle, oiled finger teasing at his entrance - coy and slow, as if he had been a first-timer again. He moaned and wriggled, not quite believing the attention that Severus was lavishing on him, and yet hungry for more. He was rewarded with a fingertip inside him, and a kiss on his pudgy stomach as his diaphragm fluttered up and down in ecstasy.  
  
"Stay with me," breathed Severus, so quietly Gilderoy almost imagined he had heard it.  
  
Gilderoy cracked his eyes open, and felt Severus' dark gaze meet his own. “Severus..." he managed, between gasps, "...I can’t think of anything I’d want more.”   
  
The corners of Severus' mouth twitched into a shy smile, and then he plunged his finger forward and connected with  _that place_  that made Gilderoy see stars.  
  
The next few minutes were an absolute blur of sensation and arousal, as Gilderoy was caressed, fingered, licked and kissed. Finally, when Gilderoy thought he couldn't stand a moment more, Severus propped his hips on a pillow and eased himself into Gilderoy's panting, hungry body - holding and kissing him deeply and heart-to-heart, in a way so different to the rough coupling that was their usual wont.  
  
"Oh,  _gods!_ " cried Gilderoy, feeling Severus inside him, on him,  _with_  him, thrusting smoothly at an angle that seemed designed for his pleasure. He came within seconds, and Severus followed soon afterward, emptying deeply within him.  
  
They laid like that for longer than Gilderoy could guess - in a sweaty, messy heap of contentment. Gilderoy hugged Severus tight, feeling his panting breaths vibrating through his own body, and a dampness on Severus' cheek that could even have been tears.  
  
Amongst it all, the solution to that unanswered question in Gilderoy's mind clicked into place. He had found something better than flattery and riches; better than champagne and voyages around the world; better than Galleons and soirees.  _He had found someone to love._


End file.
